


Ringlets of Gold

by NoPenIntended



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Comfort/Angst, M/M, Questioning Moralities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 13:23:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15195686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoPenIntended/pseuds/NoPenIntended
Summary: Achilles is nowhere to be found. Patroclus is understandably worried.





	Ringlets of Gold

“Achilles? Where'd you go?” Patroclus stumbled through the forest, looking for his honey-haired friend. The warrior hadn't returned from the latest siege, neither with his men nor on a shield. No one had seen him fall or be captured-- he was simply gone. “Achilles?” Typically, the woods would have been friendly to him, had he been with the demigod exploring, but it seemed as though the forest nymphs were all conspiring against him. He gave a silent prayer to the deities of the forest, hoping they'd forgive him and his actions. Patroclus broke into a run.

He found Achilles by a river. His hair was free from his helmet, streaming about him in ringlets of red-gold, shining as sun reflected off it. Patroclus had always loved the way it did that. His first thought, however, was that the other man was dead, and the blood splattered across his still body seemed to only prove the point.

“Achilles?” he called out, hoping against hope that he was alive. The other's hand twitched, and a moment later, he lifted his head and looked at Patroclus. Pat sighed in relief.

“I was worried about you,” he chided, getting closer to the demigod with each step. “You didn't tell anyone where you went-- I thought you had been killed or captured or--" Achilles swept him into his arms, and Patroclus stopped talking as he realized the other was crying. “Achilles, what's wrong?”

“I--" Typically, Achilles was the epitome of grace and spoke softly and gently. This time, his voice broke, and that's what broke Patroclus. Pat wrapped his arms tightly around him, feeling his own lip tremble. “Are we the good guys here, Patroclus?” Pat could feel the tears from the other soaking through his tunic.

“I believe so,” Patroclus answered, choosing his words carefully. “You're a hero, after all.” The demigod replied with a tighter hug and a slightly louder sob. Patroclus’ hand reached up to the tangled honeyed hair and intertwined with it until long after the sobs had ceased and the only trembles he felt from the other were those of exhausted muscles.

“Let's go back,” he managed to get out. “Briseis must almost have dinner ready.”


End file.
